


The waves have come to take you away

by Amie33



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-30
Updated: 2012-10-30
Packaged: 2017-11-17 09:48:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amie33/pseuds/Amie33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karen finally breathes, deeply, and when she speaks this time Alex understands her, or maybe it's her brain that makes the connection, translates her words and makes them real, and it's like the world stops.</p>
<p>  <em>Matt is dead.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	The waves have come to take you away

**Author's Note:**

> so this is my first Mattex, and I'm not sure there will be others, because it was really difficult to find a plot and actually write a whole story... This one comes from a dream I made, which really moved me and I had no choice but writing a fic about it to get it out of my head. I hope you won't hate me too much for it.  
> Huge thanks to Emma for the beta.  
> Title from _Missing you_ by City and colour.

_**The waves have come to take you away** _

Alex's phone rings and she wakes up with a jolt. Glancing at her alarm clock she groans; it's not 6am yet and it's Sunday, a free day. But her irritation doesn't last, rapidly turning into worry as she wonders who could phone her at that time. She gulps, a bad feeling in her bones, because somehow she knows, there _is_ something wrong. She waits a few seconds, hoping that maybe the phone will stop but it doesn't, and finally, after what may be the fifteenth ring, she picks it up, a knock in her stomach.

“Hello?”

There is no word to answer her, but a harsh breathing and something that sounds like sobbing. Oh, she really hates when she's right. Now fully awake she glances at her screen, trying to see who it is, and Karen's name appears. Her last hope is that maybe it's only one of her love affairs that has just stopped, maybe it's not _that_ bad.

“Okay, darling, calm down.”

She tries to sound cool but inside she's trembling, and there's that voice inside of her that tells her she should really be afraid, because there's something different this time. Karen tries to articulate a few words, but between her tears Alex doesn't understand anything – or doesn't want to.

“I'm sorry, I don't understand darling. Breathe, calm down, everything's okay.”

There's another deep sob at the other end of the line, and Alex closes her eyes. May this all be a dream, please, she has never heard Karen so upset, and it's really _not_ good.

Karen finally breathes, deeply, and when she speaks this time Alex understands her, or maybe it's her brain that makes the connection, translates her words and makes them real, and it's like the world stops.

_Matt is dead._

Karen must keep on speaking and crying but Alex can't hear her anymore. There are those three words echoing in her ears, again and again, a part of her trying to refuse their reality while the other knows, has known since the phone began to ring, that this is the truth.

Matt is dead.

She swallows, closes her eyes, tries to breathe and not to cry. Not now. Karen is already a mess and she can't break down now, not when her friend needs her. So she breathe, and tries to gather her thoughts, tries to find something to say.

“How? What happened?”

She shouldn't ask, but she has to know, has to understand.

“He was...” Karen sobs, again, and Alex understands how difficult it must be to find the words. “He was killed. In a bar.”

“What! How?”

She knows she has already asked, but the words don't make sense. What happened? How could he... ? She had thought perhaps an accident, but... _Killed_? Matt? Who could want to kill a man like him?

“Don't know. There have just...”

Karen continues but Alex doesn't hear. Her head spins, and she feels sick. She wants to cry, she wants to scream, she wants to tear everything next to her. It must be a dream, an awful nightmare, and she's going to wake up, isn't she?

She blinks a few times, and breathes in and out deeply. She has to focus. She has to do something. And suddenly she knows, she can't stay there and do nothing. She has to move.

“Where?” She asks, maybe a bit harshly, her voice barely trembling and she knows Karen is surprised by her tone. She babbles a bit, before finally answering – it's a bar, in a hotel, some place he is used to go. She knows the place, it's calm and sophisticated, something could never have happened there.

“Okay, I have to go”.

“What. Wait, Alex, what are you...?”

But it's too late, Alex has made her decision. She will go, and see for herself, and ask questions, and find who did it. She climbs out of the bed, turns on the light and rummages in her cupboard for something to wear; a pair of jeans, the first pair of sneakers she finds, a jumper, it's all she needs. She tries to calm down Karen at the same time, tries to tell her why she's doing this – she needs to. Karen tries to prevent her from doing this, telling her it's something she shouldn’t do, but she won't listen to her.

“Oh, wait, Karen,” she says, her purse in her hands and her coat already on her shoulders, “How do you know?”

Karen gulps at the end of the line and Alex knows other tears are coming. “I have a friend... She's working for the police. She told me as soon as she knew.”

“Ok, thank you. I have to go now. I’ll phone you back.”

She has everything she has to know. She hangs up and opens the door, rushing outside.

x.

She doesn't remember anything about her journey from her hotel to the bar. It's all in a blur, her mind focused on her goal only. Her hands are trembling and her brain feels like jelly. It's so early in the morning and it's Sunday, there's barely anyone in the streets and she's glad, because she can drive fast, and fast, and she doesn't see the buildings around her. She's also glad there's nobody to see her, to take a picture of her, because she must be in a horrible mess – not that she cares, at that moment there is something more important than her public image.

She finally arrives to the place, and she parks her car almost in the middle of the street, just in front of the hotel. There are already a few police cars waiting outside, but fortunately there isn't any journalists – yet. The news hasn't spread but she knows the calm won't last, in a few hours everybody will know. It makes her sicker.

She rushes out and climbs the few stairs that lead to the hotel entrance. Inside she doesn't hesitate, knowing exactly where the bar is. She has already come here a few times, with him, with other friends, and it has always been a welcoming place. Now the familiar objects and faces seem like enemies, painful, hurtful. She swallows as she approaches, knowing that in a few seconds she will have the truth, real and never changing. Does she really want this?

There are a few policemen waiting in front of the doors of the bar, and of course they see her.

“Stop, madam, sorry, you can't...”

“Don't, I have to...”

She tries to get over them but they stop her, one of them holding her arm and she frees herself violently, managing to walk a few more steps, almost running to the doors. She hears the men yelling at her, but she doesn't care, she doesn't care if she's breaking a rule, the law, or even if she's disturbing the police work. They can't understand that she _needs_ to enter.

She doesn't have to enter the room, the glass doors of the bar don't hide anything. The moment the policemen grip her, she sees – oh no, it's real, there he is, a few meters from her, lying on the floor, his arm in a weird position and so pale.

She screams.

She screams his name and she knows she begins to cry too, tears running down her cheeks but she can't stop herself. She tries to resist the men that hold her, that prevent her from running to him, to touch him, to comfort him, to help him. There are people in the bar, other police officers, turning their heads and looking at her with surprise, but all she can see is him, lying on the floor – his body inert; dead.

The policemen finally succeed in moving her away from the door, from the place where she can see him and she keeps screaming and crying. She isn’t sure she even tries to resist them this time, because it's like all her strength has left her body the moment she saw him. Karen was right, it's true, and it hurts so much.

_Matt is dead_.

x.

She feels the police men leading her away, away from the hallway and the staff and the clients looking at her with big eyes. They sit her down in a place she doesn't know, that she doesn't even want to know. Her cries lessen, and she finally stops screaming, sitting there with her head in her hands, sobbing until she feels like she doesn't have any tears left in her anymore.

She doesn't know how long she stays there until someone coughs and she jumps. She wipes away her last tears and looks up. She discovers a woman, in her mid-thirties, a contrite look on her face that fits the circumstances. She doesn't wear any uniform but Alex knows she's from the police too – the way she stands, the clothes she wears, the fact that she seems to be used to this kind of situation.

“Can I take a seat?” Alex nods. She feels tired, she would like to go back in time but she knows she can't, and maybe this woman has the answers she is looking for.

““I'm officer Johnson, I'm in charge of the investigation of Mr Smith's death. I'm sorry, Miss...?” She trails off and Alex looks at her with surprise. People always recognize her. She has been in many shows, she's what can be called “a celebrity”, she isn't used to giving her name to someone she doesn't know.

“Kingston. Alex Kingston,” she replies, and she can see realization in her interlocutor's eyes.

“Oh, I didn't...” she trails off again and Alex knows why. She didn't recognize her because she must be unrecognisable. She must be nothing but an awful mess: she has just woken up in the early morning, taken the first pair of jeans and shoes she had found, has no make up on, her hair is tangled up, and her eyes must be red from tears. She doesn't blame the police officer – she isn't sure she would recognize herself in a mirror. “I'm sorry for your loss Miss Kingston. You and...” – the victim, she's about to say, Alex knows that and swallows, grateful that she changes her mind, “... Mr Smith was your partner?”

“We are working together, yes, but he's not only a colleague, he is...” She closes her eyes, realizing it's the wrong tense, “He was a friend.” She breathes in before asking. “What happened? What happened to him?”

“We're not sure yet. There's no sign of fight, no violence, no blood or wound we can see,” Alex closes her eyes and covers her mouth with her hand, repressing another sob, “We are waiting for the coroner, he will be able to give us more answers. But, to be honest Miss Kingston, Mr Smith was young, and in good health, and the circumstances are a bit weird, I don't believe it was a natural death.”

She stops then, letting Alex cry new tears. She closes her eyes and tries to breathe, to focus on what the woman is telling her, and she remembers Karen's words this morning – Matt was murdered.

She's interrupted by a bang and she looks up, the door of the room opening violently as Karen enters, followed by the reassuring presence of Steven. Alex breathes deeply, pleased to see familiar faces.

Karen is exactly as she had imagined hearing her voice on the phone. Red eyes, tears still streaming down her face, she seems to have dressed the way Alex had; taking clothes by chance, and they don't match at all. Her hair is tied up in a messy ponytail, and she hasn't got any make-up on. Her face, although usually pale, is a blank white, and Alex is afraid she's going to faint.

Moffat is not better. His face is tensed and pale, his usual smile turned into a painful line. He holds Karen's arms, but Alex realizes he's shaking. His shirt isn't completely buttoned, and his suit is inside out. He doesn't cry, but seems as lost as Karen and Alex.

“Oh my God, Alex...” Karen runs to her and she stands up, hugging her tightly. They stay like that for a few seconds, both crying and comforting each other the best they can with words – but words won't make Matt come back and somehow it's futile. Steven talks with Johnson while they hold each other but they don't hear what he says.

Finally they part and Alex helps Karen sit next to her. Steven is already down, his face blank, his knuckles white as he grips the arm on his chair.

“I'm sorry for you all,” Johnson says, and it's all she can do. “Don't you mind if I ask you a few questions? It could help us understand Mr Smith's personality and maybe what lead to this tragic event.”

They all nod, and the questions begin.

x.

They talk for a long time. Johnson wants to know if Matt often went to that place, and stayed so long into the night. They tell everything they know, yes he liked that place, yes he used to go and spend most of the night. Karen is surprise that he didn't phone her before he went like he usually did, but she worked late tonight, working on a new show and maybe he didn't want to bother her, knowing the shooting was difficult and she was tired.

Steven explains how Matt was still playing his role seriously. Yes, they are shooting the last episode, and there are only a few days left, and he was sad to leave soon, but he had other projects and wasn't afraid about his future. Alex confirms everything he says, that there was nothing changed, nothing new. Just normal excited Matt playing the Doctor with brio.

Johnson wants to know if he has enemies, if he had received threats. They all gasp. Of course, there were people who didn't like him and his work, but it was a part of the job, you can't be famous and be loved by everyone, especially in a show like _Doctor Who_. Some fans were still comparing him to David, or other previous incarnations of the Doctor, and sure he had probably recieved some mail with hate... but nothing different from the usual crazy stuff. And, by the way, his mail box was more harassed by women trying to get him into their knickers than insane people who wanted to kill him.

Johnson notes everything on a small book, nodding, frowning, making them repeat some details. She also asks about the place he lives in, his neighbours, his relationships, etc. The interrogatory is long, and tiring, and Alex feels like none of this is real, like it's a dream but inside she knows, everything is true, it's a nightmare she won't ever awake from. She also knows she's going to remember every detail from this day; the weather, the clothes she is wearing, Johnson's voice and face, the words that are being said, and she knows she will remember the moment she saw him, the moment she found him, for the rest of her life.

There's someone knocking on the door and the discussion stops. A policeman enters the room, one of the one that Alex met when she arrived. He approaches Johnson, bends and says something in her ear Alex can't hear. Johnson nods, and the policeman is gone – it hasn't lasted more than a few seconds.

“Okay, only a few remaining questions and I'll let you go. We didn't manage to find Mr Smith's parents, do you know where they are?”

Karen nods and sniffs, wiping her eyes with her handkerchief. “They're not here for now, they are gone, a cruise in the Mediterranean Sea... I know Matt has their contact details at home... I have a key, we can look for it and send it to you?”

“Yes, thank you. Can you think of any other person we should contact?”

“He has a sister, Laura,” Alex says and Johnson notes. “I think... that's all. We're going to phone his friends and...”

“I phoned Darvill this morning,” Karen adds, more for herself than to inform anyone. “He's still shooting in France for the day, but he'll come on the first plane and...” She stops, breaking into tears once more.

“I'll talk to the Doctor Who staff,” Steven says, his voice almost trembling and it's so weird to hear him like that, he is always joyful and confident.

“Great, okay.” Johnson holds her card and Alex takes it, looking at the words without really seeing them. “Phone me when you have the Smiths' contact. And feel free to call me, if you remember something important.”

She stands up and shakes their hands. “I have to warn you, someone has told the press, it's a jungle out there.” She reaches the door and turns back one last time. “I'm really sorry. We'll do everything we can to discover what happened. I'll let you know.”

And with that she's gone.

x.

The three of them remain silent for long seconds, maybe minutes, before Alex finally moves away from her seat.

“Let's go,” she says, and Karen and Steven look up at her.

“Why? Where?” The ginger asks, about to cry again. Alex can't cry anymore, not now. There are things to do, she will break down again later.

“His flat. We have to find his parents. We can't... They have to know.”

They both nod, and Steven helps Karen to stand up. She seems fragile, and Alex wonders if she'll be able to do this - to ignore the way she feels herself.

“Okay, my car is just in front the hotel.” Alex stands. “We won't have to face the press for a long time. You know what they're going to ask, don't answer anything.”

Her voice doesn't tremble, and Alex wonders how she can be so strong right now. The two nod at her, again, and she leads them outside.

x.

Johnson was right. There is a large crowd waiting at the hotel, and if they can't enter the building, they are the closest they can get to, a few feet from the door. Karen puts on her sunglasses and after a last deep breath they leave, ready to face the questions of the paparazzi and the flashes of the cameras.

It's really a mess out there, and she's glad Steven is with them, making them a way through the human jungle. Alex doesn't hear any of their words, cries and voices but not a single coherent sentence. She focuses on her car in front of her and repeats “No comments,” to everyone without looking up. She feels Steven's arm on her back and vaguely sees Karen's hair at her side, and with the certitude that the two important people are next to her, she crosses all the way to the road.

She opens her door, Steven and Karen following her, and the second they are safe inside the closed car they all sigh deeply.

“Oh my God, it was horrible,” Karen whispers and Alex reaches out to squeeze her hand. The ginger tries to smile at her, but doesn't succeed in anything but a wince. Alex turns the engine on and then they are gone, flashes still shining around them.

x.

They are silent for the whole route, and Alex focuses on the road. They should talk, say something, comfort each other, but they can't: they are going to the flat of their friend, a place they know by heart and cherish, but today it's not for a party, it's not with boxes of pizzas and booze in their hands. They are going to the place of their now dead friend, and it weighs on them.

Finally they reach his building, and they are glad there isn't any journalists yet. For now they are all focusing on the crime scene – what a hard word, when it applies to someone you know – but they know they're going to come, in a few hours or in a few days, to take some pictures of the “building where the actor Matt Smith lived, well-known for the role of the eleventh Doctor”.

In the hallway Karen rummages in her purse for the keys, and she moans and begins to sob as she can't find them. Alex puts a hand on her shoulder and takes her bag, and in a few seconds she finds them, in the usual pocket. Karen mumbles apologizes, wiping her tears with the hem of her coat, but Alex says nothing, just holding the girl closer as they enter the building and take the lift.

And then they are finally in front of Matt's flat, and Alex has to try twice before she opens his door. She steps inside and freezes in the doorway. Everything is like it always is. The dishes are waiting in the sink. There are clothes on the floor, and a football magazine on the coffee table. It's like he left for a second and is about to come back. Everything smells like him, feels like his, and Alex can't believe she's never going to see him again. She swallows, afraid she's going to cry more tears.

“Hey, Steven? Karen? What are you doing here so early?”

There's a joyful voice echoing in the corridor and Alex's heart stops. It can't be true.

“Oh, you look like hell... Did something bad...”

Alex turns back and runs out of the flat, and she can't believe it. Matt is there, Matt, the real Matt, in a white sport suit, a bottle of water in his hand and sweat covering his red face. She remembers he liked running sometimes – no, _likes_ , he is alive now, isn't he?

“Matt, you...” She opens her mouth, and suddenly feels hot, and the world spins around, and before she can stop herself, she faints.

x.

When she opens her eyes, the first thing she can see is Karen's concerned face bent over her. She winces, and tries to remember what happened. All this night has been hell, and it's still the morning – was, before she lost consciousness. She remembers Karen's call, and the hotel, and the police, and she remembers entering Matt's flat and...

Oh. Yes. _Matt isn't dead._

She lifts her head a bit too quickly and she thinks she's about to faint a second time. “Ow, slowly,” Steven says to her, and his hands hold her. “Breathe in, like that, slowly.”

It takes her a few seconds before she can sit up and open her eyes. She's on Matt's couch, in Matt's apartment, with Matt's jumper in front of her eyes on the coffee table, upon the magazine she had seen earlier.

“What happened?”

“You fainted,” Karen stands and Alex snorts.

“I know. I mean, what happened, _to him_?”

Karen and Steven look at each other, and finally Moffat speaks. “He's not dead. I don't know how it is possible, but he's not dead. The guy they found at the hotel... It's not him. He looked like him, his name was his, but it wasn't him.”

Alex closes her eyes and breathes deeply, trying to understand. “How could they... How is it possible?”

“We don't know. We called officer Johnson. She is as confused as us.”

She opens her eyes yet, and scans the room with fear. “Where he is? Where is Matt?”

“In the bathroom.” Karen puts a comforting hand on her arm. Also, she looks better Alex notices. “He’s taking a shower. He's just come back from running and he wanted to clean up a bit before meeting Johnson – she wants to know what he has done tonight, and why they have... how this mistake could have happened.”

Alex nods, and bit by bit the idea that Matt is _alive_ seems to make its way through her mind. Steven stands up, and comes back with a glass of water which she drinks quickly.

“You should go back home. And relax. And try to sleep.” Alex shakes her head vigorously.

“It's okay. I feel better now.”

Steven doesn't have the time to argue more, because Matt suddenly steps in the room, bare feet, his hair still damp from the shower. Alex jumps out of the couch and runs to him, almost crashing into him as she wraps her arms around him and hugs him tightly.

“Oh my god, Matt... It's real.”

She can feel his head resting in her hair, and his muscles feel real under her arms, and he smells like him, and she's sure, this time, it's him. He's alright.

“It is, yes. I'm okay. Don't worry, I'm here.”

He holds her as tight as she holds him, patting her back, and she cries and she laughs at the same time.

“Oh my God, Matt, we thought...”

“I know, I'm sorry. I don't understand.”

She sniffs and pulls back, and he places a kiss on her cheek. “I'm sorry, it's never gonna happen again,” he says and she smiles.

“I hope not!”

Their eyes meet, and for a second everything vanishes. She can see he is sincerely sorry, and as lost as she is. He might has been a bit shocked to find his friends on his doorstep, announcing to him that everybody thought he was dead. But she can also feel something else, something different, something applying only to her...

Matt has always been a friend, a good friend. Of course he doesn't act with her the way he does with Karen or Arthur or even with Jenna, but he has never treated her like the old woman she should seem like to him. He talks with her, he brings her coffee, he flirts, and not only because of their roles but because he likes it, he likes her. He is her friend, and she is his. Personally, she has always felt something different, something more than just friendship, but she knew he wasn't feeling the same, so she just stayed away and never said anything that could have been misunderstood. But now, looking into those eyes, she's not sure anymore...

“Is everything okay Matt?” Steven says, breaking whatever was happening the second before. Alex coughs and pulls away, hoping nobody could have guessed her previous thoughts.

“Yes, right. I'm going to see Johnson, you can leave. I really appreciate what you've done, but I think I can do it alone now.”

“I'm going with you,” Alex says, and her tone doesn't really leave him a choice.

“Are you sure? You must be exhausted and...”

“I'm fine, don't worry. I can't let you do this alone.”

Everybody is silent for a while, looking at her. She tries not to show that they're right, she's tired, but it's not important. She had thought that she had lost him, and she won't take her eyes off of him until she's sure everything is okay, and that nobody will ever try to hurt him again.

“Okay, if you want to.” Matt smiles and takes her hand, squeezing her. “But let me feed you first, I don't want you to faint a second time.”

She nods and smiles back. If all he asks for her to stay is to eat some food, she can do it.

x.

A few slices of toast and some cups of strong coffee after, Matt finally declares Alex is well enough to go. She has to admit that she feels better, and she doesn't know if it's because all her previous fear and sadness is slowly leaving her, or if it's the miracle of the caffeine now in her system. She realizes it was a good idea to have that little breakfast – or lunch actually – and to take some time before going to the police station. She hasn't stopped for a single minute since Karen had phoned her this morning, hasn't thought about anything happening, just rushing to do everything that falls on her. It's good to sit and breathe and try to swallow the events of the previous hours.

Finally they decide to leave, Karen and Steven phoning everybody they know to reassure them and explaining it was nothing but a mistake, and Alex almost regrets that she won't hear Arthur screaming on the phone and Karen screaming back. Alex gives them the keys of her car; Steven's still at the hotel, and she leaves with Matt in his. Karen hugs Matt tightly before she leaves, and Alex thinks she's about to cry again – but she doesn't, patting him on the arm and smiling softly. Steven shakes his hand a bit stronger than he usually does, and if his face has regained some colour, he's still not as confident as usual. He tells him to take a few days free, he will stop the shooting for now, he knows they can't film now, while everybody is still upset from the event.

Alex enters Matt's car and sits in the passenger seat, waiting for him to say good bye to his friends. He is calm, and takes the whole thing perfectly well. Of course, he hasn't spent the whole morning thinking one of his best friends was dead, but still, she knows she would be really upset if someone has declared her dead. It makes her think about her own condition, and who knows if she won't have an accident in an hour, or in a day, or in a month, or suddenly becoming ill with no hope of cure? Life is short, she knows that, but each time she's confronted to the death of someone she knows it strikes her stronger.

Matt tries to lighten her mood while he drives, telling her about his own morning, and she listens to him, staring at him and she's not sure she can blink anymore. It's so unbelievable to have him next to her when she thought he was dead an hour ago, and she thought she would never see him... It makes her think about what she feels, and what she wants, and what she could dare.

They reach the police station and officer Johnson is already on the pavement, waiting for them. She indicates a parking space, out of sight – she must have thought they would prefer anonymity, but Alex also thinks that she doesn't want the press to spread her mistake right now, without knowing what happened exactly.

“Miss Kingston. Mr. Smith,” she greets them when they step out of the car, “I have to admit I'm a bit surprised. Is it really you this time?”

Matt shakes her hand and smiles, not impressed at all. “I am, this is really me.”

“I would like to ask you a few questions if you don't mind, maybe it could help us to understand what happened.”

“I'm not sure I'll be very helpful, but I'll do everything I can.”

Johnson smiles back, and leads them in her office. They are some officers looking at them as they cross the station, but they are professionals and none of them ask them anything. Alex doubts that the news of the resurrection of the famous actor Matt Smith will stay hidden for a long time though.

They sit down in a private office, and Johnson closes the door and shuts down the inner blinds, to be sure they won't be watched. She even calls one of her colleague to be sure they won't be interrupted. When she's satisfied enough, she sits at her side of her desk, and faces them, sighing deeply before talking.

She tells Matt everything and Alex hears the story for the second time. How someone looking like him and claiming to be him was found dead in a place where he is a regular customer. She tells how he had suddenly fallen, and gives details about his death that she hadn't said the first time, and Alex knows why – it's difficult enough to hear them, knowing it's just a stranger, but she wouldn’t have survived it when she thought it was Matt. She can't help but grip his hand and he doesn't push her away.

After that, Johnson asks questions; where was Matt this morning, and could he think about someone hating him, wanting him dead... and he can't answer, as lost as Alex and the others were this morning. She also shows him some pictures of the dead man, asking if he knows him or has seen him before – but of course he doesn't. Alex can't help, glancing at the man's corpse. She had only seen him from far away this morning, but now that she can see him in those pictures she realizes he's not exactly Matt. Of course he looks like him, enough for people to believe he was Matt, but she knows him well and now she realizes, there are details, his nose, his ears... It's not him.

They leave the police station, something like two hours after they had arrived, with no further information. Johnson tells them she will phone when she knows more. The coroner will compare dental prints and if they're lucky, they will find who it is and what he was doing. Maybe his death has nothing to do with Matt, but for now she will put him under surveillance, just to be sure he will be safe until the whole case is solved.

Johnson makes them leave from the back of the building, preparing a meeting with the press to clear everything up. She advices Matt to stay home for a few days and to avoid public places and he laughs – he is used to being the goal of the public attention, and he's not afraid of that. Of course it's a bit different from usual, but he takes the whole situation with humour. Alex does not completely agree with him, but he's fine and that's all that matters.

As they escape from the back, they realize that Johnson was right, and there's already lots of people gathering in front of the station. They don't see them though, and they leave without any other issues.

x.

They drive back to Matt's flat in silence. Alex realizes she hasn't let go of Matt's hand, except for when he needs it to drive, taking it back as soon as they step outside. He doesn't say anything, smiling at her reassuringly. She isn't sure why she does that, she thinks it might be more for herself than for him. She needs to feel him, feel the blood rushing in his veins and his muscles trembling under her fingers. She's not ready to let him go. She's not sure she ever will be.

They walk into his apartment, for the second time this day and this time there's nothing unpredictable waiting for them. They stay in the doorway and Alex feels lost, not knowing what to do now that everything important has been done.

Matt coughs and looks are their entwined hands. “You can let me go now, I'm safe,” he says, half joking, but Alex shivers. It's not joke for her, it is something serious, grave, and she can't act like nothing has happened.

“No,” she simply says, and she sees surprise in his eyes. “No, I can't. I thought you were dead Matt, do you realize? Dead. I thought I would never see you again, never hold you again, never hear you again. You were just gone, suddenly, and there was nothing I could do.” He stares at her, open mouthed. She doesn't know what she says and what it is leading to, but now that she's started she can't stop. “And I thought.. I thought about everything, remembered every detail, the day we met, the laughter on set, the way you were always there, smiling, even on the bad days. And I thought about everything I couldn't have... All the things I didn't say, and that I would never be able to say again. I thought about everything lost, that I didn't take, because I was afraid, because I was stupid.”

“Alex...” he tries to stop her but she shakes her head. She hasn't finished.

“You don't understand Matt. I thought you were dead and it was... Could you imagine, if it was me, if someone phoned you and told you I was dead? It was like something died within me. And I felt so bad... so no, no, I can't let you go Matt, not now, not after that. I would never forgive myself, if something happens to you and I haven't even tried to tell you...”

This time he doesn't try to shush her with words, using something more effective. His hands cup her face and before she can breathe he kisses her. His lips crash on hers, and there's something urgent in his movement, like all her emotions have spread into him. His kiss is demanding and passionate, and it only takes her a few seconds to kiss him back after her initial surprise. She presses into him, her hands untangle from his fingers to wrap around his waist. They push and pull, touch and stroke, kiss and nip, fingers travelling over their bodies while their tongues fight. She moans and he sighs, and she feels them moving until her back hits what must be the counter of his kitchen and then he pulls back, just a bit, resting his forehead against hers.

“I can't imagine. I can't imagine losing you,” he admits to her, answering her previous question. “If one day someone comes to me and tells me you're gone...” He kisses her then, softly, tenderly, lingering on her lips like he can't pull away. “I will never forgive myself.”

She strokes his cheek and blinks, “I'm here,” she replies, “And I'm not going anywhere.”

“Never?”

“Never,” she swears. Maybe it's a bit quick, she knows she can't promise him something like that, and he can't promise her either. But she's been waiting for too long for this moment, and she realizes it was as ridiculous to be afraid and to hesitate, as it is to swear ever and never – but maybe it's going to work.

“Okay.” His grip tightens on her waist and she smiles, and this time she's the one to kiss him. He moans against her mouth, and the kiss is as passionate as the first one, maybe more so now that they are sure what they're doing. His hands slide from her waist to her stomach, slipping under her jumper while she attacks his jawline with her tongue and teeth, and she writhes against him. She reluctantly moves her hands away from his own clothes as he takes her clothing off. As soon as the jumper leaves her skin she finds the way back to him, attacking the buttons of his shirt with trembling fingers, and she appreciates the warm sensation of his hands stroking her back and shoulders and daringly moving south and cupping her bum.

She hasn't even removed his third button and is thinking about tearing the remaining ones apart, when he suddenly laughs and she stops her movements, frowning. She looks down at herself, wondering what's wrong, and then she understands.

“Are you still wearing your pyjamas?” He asks and she wants to laugh with him. She remembers how she left hastily this morning, grabbing jeans and shoes and leaving her top on – black, silky and lacy, without even a bra under it. All this seems so far away now, like it's another day, another year, another universe.

“I thought you were dead, I didn't take time to dress up.”

“Not that I’m complaining,” he jokes and she smcks his chest. “Oi!” She keeps hitting him playfully, and he keeps pretending to be cross with her, and they laugh between the kisses, turning in the room as they pretend to fight. It feels good, to smile and laugh and act like children without thinking of something sad or painful. She taps and nips every bit of flesh she can reach, and she finally removes his shirt, and his trousers, and he takes off her top, and her pair of jeans, until they are wearing nothing but their undergarments in the middle of his living room. There is less taps and more kisses, less laughter and more moans, and the game is slowly abandoned as their bodies meet. They're pressed against each other, and according to what she feels, he wants her as much as she wants him.

They finally stop, panting hard and looking at each other’s almost naked bodies with want. “Bedroom?” she asks and he nods, taking her hand and leading her through the corridor. There is goose flesh forming on her skin in anticipation as she enters the room and he stares at her as she stands, licking his lips and fire burning in his eyes.

He closes the door and approaches her. His hands rest on her shoulders and stroke her skin there, slowly, before going down, weighing her breasts and circling her nipples with his thumbs. She can't stop a deep sigh escaping her throat as he touches her, and he smiles, kissing the corner of her mouth. She mimics his movements, caressing his arms and kissing his throat, her fingers dancing over his stomach and going down until she cups his erection through his boxer shorts. He hisses against her, low guttural growls as she begins to stroke him. He takes his revenge immediately, palming her sex over her knickers, and she moans, desire pooling in her stomach. She can't wait any longer. She grabs the hem of his underwear and shoves it down, and she's glad when he does the same with hers.

Her mouth searches for his and they kiss again, hungrily, walking blindly in the room until they hit the bed and fall on the covers. His hands stroke her back, pressing her closer against him and she takes advantage of being on top to rub herself against his hard member, until he gasps, breaking the kiss.

“Alex, my God, stop that or I won't last.”

She smiles smugly, and rolls her hips a last time just to tease him a bit more. “Condom?” She asks and he mumbles something about a drawer and the bedside table. She carefully bends over him while she reaches out, so he can have a few inches of her skin to play with, and she can feel his tongue over her breasts and his hands stroking between her legs. She's almost tempted to let him carry on but remembers there's more waiting for her and bats him away.

She sits back over him, the condom in her hands and she looks at him in the eyes while she rips it open with her teeth and he whimpers as she rolls it slowly down onto him. He thrusts into her hand as she lingers there and she finally decides the teasing is enough. She aligns her body with his and sinks down around him as they both gasp.

He wraps his hand around her neck and pulls her down to him, his mouth crashing against hers again with passion. They immediately set a rapid rhythm, and she doesn't know if it's the years of secret want or the emotions of the day, but she feels close to the edge already and she knows he is too. Their bodies move, skin stroking against skin, lips against lips, moans echoing moans, her hips rolling and his rocking into her. It seems to last an eternity, it seems to last a second, before they come together, shuddering and crying each other's names.

They don't move for a few seconds, both trying to catch their breath while he runs his hand through her hair and she kisses his chest. When she has enough strength she rolls off of him, waiting for him to dispose of the condom before snuggling on his side. They both sigh happily, and after a while she falls asleep, feeling safe and relaxed against him, unable to find words for the feeling of having him so close against her, while a few hours before she thought she had lost him forever.

x.

When Alex wakes up it takes her a few seconds to realize where she is. The sheets are not hers, the pillows is not hers, and she doesn't recognize the furniture around. And then she remembers everything, what happened today and how it had ended.

She turns back but Matt is not in the bed anymore, and nowhere to been seen in the room. She glances at the clock – 10 pm, she has slept all the evening long. He must have woken up before her and slid out of the bed in silence.

She stretches, enjoying the feeling of a good sleep and the warm sensation of being in his bed. She doesn't know what they are going to do now, if this has just been a reaction to the emotions, and the fear, and the tiredness, or if there's something more serious waiting for them... And for now it doesn't matter, she feels good and safe, better than she has been in years, and she's ready to take as much as she can.

She stands up, finds her knickers lying on the floor and opens Matt’s wardrobe, looking for something else to wear. She gasps as she discover his collection of clothes, and she's not sure she has as many things as him. There are lots of shirts of different colours and forms, some she likes and others she wonders how he could wear them... Their taste in fashion is clearly different, and he has always been a bit more eccentric than her, hasn't he?

A plain white shirt finally catches her eyes and she slips it on. It is a bit long and large for her but it smells like him, and she thinks it's perfect.

“Matt?” She calls him while she crosses the corridor, wondering what the look on his face will be like when he discovers her in nothing but her knickers and his shirt that barely hides anything. She smiles in anticipation.

He doesn't reply but she's not sure he can hear her if he's at the other side of the flat. She calls him again as she enters the living room, but she gets no answer. She turns around and she begins to worry because he is nowhere to be seen.

She crosses the living room and reaches for the kitchen... and she stops, frozen. He's here, in the corner of the room, lying on the floor as he has been hours earlier, immobile and pale...

She screams.

x.

She wakes up with a jolt, for good this time, her scream following her from the dream. Her skin his damp, covered with sweat and tears, and she trembles, her whole body shivering, unable to get the images of Matt's dead body lying on the floor.

He wraps his arms around her instantly, hugging her tightly and stroking her skin. “Don't worry, I'm here, everything's alright.”

She sobs a bit and he keeps shushing her and comforting her. “It was just a dream...”

She shakes her head negatively. “No, no, it was not a dream.”

“Of course it is, just a nightmare.”

“No , it's not.” She breathes in deeply, and realizes he doesn't understand. “This morning, I went to the hotel and...” she represses another sob and closes her eyes, trying to forget the images of this morning. “I saw you. There, on the floor. Dead.” She shivers at the memory.

He brushes away a few curls from her face. “It wasn't me,” he whispers softly.

“I know. I know. I just... I know.”

He doesn't reply with anything, pressing her closer to his chest. They both stay silent, and after a while she calms down, the feeling of him, warm and so _alive_ against her helping her to relax. She knows he's safe now, she'll just need time to forget this awful day.

They finally drift away back into sleep, still hugging each other, and this time she doesn't have any nightmares, she doesn't even dream anything.

x.

It's Matt's phone ringing that wakes them, and Alex blinks, the sun already shining through the window. She hadn’t realized she had been so tired.

She's vaguely aware of Matt groaning, his arms unwrapping from her as he stretches to pick up his phone. She turns back, spooning around him and scattering kisses over his shoulders and neck as he talks.

“Hello? Oh, Steven, good morning. Yes, yes, I'm fine. I don't know, we haven't... Okay. Yes. Yes, she's still here.” Alex frowns. Even though she only hears half of the conversation, she know he's talking about her. They haven't had the the time to talk yet, she's not even sure what there is between them and telling Steven she has stayed the night might not be a good idea... “I'll tell her. Yes. Thank you. Bye.”

Matt hangs up after this little talk and places the phone back on his bedside table, before turning back and wrapping his arms around her. “Hello.” He kisses her nose and she can't help but smile.

“Hello.”

“Feeling better?”

“Yes, thank you. What did Steven want?”

“Oh, nothing, just be sure everything was alright. He says hello.”

“Matt...” She tries to be serious but it's difficult with his hands on lips on her. “Why did you tell him I was here?”

“It's true, isn't it?”

“I'm not sure he had to know...”

“Oh. He already knew.”

“What?!”

He shrugs. “Said it was obvious and that we should have realised before.”

Alex turns pale, her blood freezing as she wonders what he means by _obvious_ , and who else knows.

“Don't worry, he won't tell anyone. We're safe with him.”

“Matt, we... what are we going to do?”

He finally stops his little teasing and looks up at her, serious. “What do you want?”

“I... I'm not sure.”

He cups her face and brushes her cheeks gently, and right now she just wants to stop thinking and melt into his hands. “Okay. We'll see. One day at a time. Right?”

“Right.” She sighs, relaxed, and lets him kiss her, and more.

x.

They spend the whole day in, not daring to go out. Johnson was right, there is a crowd waiting outside, staring at Matt's windows to try to get sight of him – and be sure he's alive, the real one, trying to understand what happened. They close the blinds and turn off the phone to be sure they won't be disturbed. Alex feels mortified that she hadn't left before the press had come, because she knows that if she leaves now, their relationship will be spread across the whole United Kingdom in less than an hour.

They stay the whole morning in bed, venturing to the kitchen only when their empty stomachs are too painful to be ignored. The rest of the day is divided between talking and watching crap on telly – zapping over when someone is talking about what happened the previous day – and then more talking and kissing, and Alex thinks she could live like that for the rest of her life.

By sunset Karen phones Matt's mobile, and she's talking so loud with excitement Alex can hear what she's saying even without putting her ear to the phone.

“Is Alex there?”

“I...” Matt begins, but he hasn't time to say anything before Karen screams again.

“Oh my God I knew it, she wouldn't answer her phone and she isn’t at her place and I remembered the way she looked at you yesterday, and she insisted on staying and I knew...” Matt winces and rolls his eyes as she keeps babbling and Alex laughs. It feels good to hear Karen so joyful and enthusiastic, when she was so down yesterday. “I want to talk to her, give her the phone,” she finally insists and Matt holds out the mobile out to Alex, apparently relieved not to have to listen to her anymore.

“Hello?”

“Alex, good, congrats! So you finally made up your mind and told this stupid idiot you were completely in love with him? Or did he tell you?” Alex feels like she's blushing. She has always thought she had been discrete, but this is the second person to tells them her feelings were obvious. Does everybody know, and they were the only ones not seeing the obvious?

“I...” she clears her throat, “It's a bit complicated.”

“Great, as you like, you don't want to talk now because he's right in front of you and telling you to shut up...” Alex looks up and she has to admit Karen is not completely wrong, “But as soon as you can we'll have a day, just you and me, and you'll tell me everything. Right?”

It's hard to say no, and so Alex agrees, laughing, and she has barely the time to confirm before Karen is already hanging up, because she is due to be back on set and already late. Before Alex can open her mouth to say good bye, the ginger is gone.

Later in the evening they get another call, from Johnson. They have found the name of the victim, Vincent Gable, who seemed to often use his resemblance to Matt to enter a few places and defraud them. He seemed to have some links with the criminal world, and the probability that he had been killed instead of Matt by mistake is slim – he more likely was murdered for his illegal activities. His death was caused by poison, they found it in his body and his glass too, and it's a lead they are also following. Johnson says she will keep the surveillance around Matt for a few days, but she has great hope to catch a suspect soon and she really believes he doesn't have to be afraid anymore.

The talk with the police officer has been reassuring, and they feel like somehow this event is almost over – the mysterious part of it anyway, because _their_ story, is only just beginning.

x.

A year of so after, Alex and Matt are lying together in bed, celebrating the impossible fact of being together the best way they know. Johnson had called them a few hours earlier, telling them her investigation is now closed, the murderer of Vincent Gable, some of the guys he has defrauded, has been found guilty and is sleeping his first night in prison. She assured them they are safe and won't be bothered by any of this, ever.

“Alex,” Matt whispers into her neck after their love making and she groans, already half-asleep. “Do you think we would have been together, without everything that happened?”

She stays silent for a while, thinking about that time when holding him in her arms like that was impossible, unthinkable.

“I don't know. I don't think so. I would have never said anything.”

“I would have.”

She opens her eyes wide, and looks at him with disbelief. “Would you?”

“I had planned to. The party, after the last day on set. It had been planned for weeks, and I knew. It was my only chance, either you said yes and it would have been great, or you said no and there wouldn't have had to have been weird between us, because we would have never seen each other again...”

“I... I had not planned to go.” Alex purses her lips and looks down. “My plane should have been a few hours before. I didn't want... I couldn't attend a farewell party. I would have run away.”

“Oh.” She can see the pain on his face as he thinks about this possibility, that fortunately never happened. “I suppose it's a good thing that you believed I was dead then?” He finally asks and she smiles. Yes. It is a good thing. Who would have guessed that such a bad day would have turned into something so beautiful?

_**the end** _


End file.
